


Life is Never Easy, Especially When Voldemort Wants You Dead

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Life is Never Easy [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Lust Potion/Spell, M/M, Mpreg, Potion equivalent of a roofie, not really HEA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:54:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his way to the hospital wing, Harry runs into Malfoy - who was carrying a potion to the hospital wing to be disposed of. During the collision, the potion covers both of them, and then lust takes over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is Never Easy, Especially When Voldemort Wants You Dead

Most of the time, Harry would be too stubborn to admit it. Hell! Even right now, he wanted to deny it, but no. It was sadly true that Harry had a habit of not thinking things through.

He knew it almost immediately when he ate the treacle tart. You see, due to various reasons – some of which involved the Weasley twins using him as a test subject – Harry knew better. He frickin' _knew_ better than to eat anything he didn't _know_ for a fact came from the kitchens or some other safe source. However, when he came across the treacle tart just sitting there on the table in the Gryffindor common room, Harry ate it.

His first thought was that he should feel bad for eating someone else's snack. His second thought was that Fred or George probably left it there for some unsuspecting schmuck. Then he remembered that the twins were no longer attending Hogwarts. However, the unsettled feeling wouldn't leave him.

It was then that he  _knew_ that he had just made a serious mistake. Worse! He was in his sixth year of attendance at a  _magical school_ where pranks were more common than trips to the loo!  _How in the world had he fallen into such an obvious trap?!_

Harry – having come back to the common room when everyone else was still eating dinner so that he could brood in private – decided that he would just have to go to the hospital wing to make sure that he wasn't poisoned. He didn't  _feel_ poisoned, but he did feel... odd... His stomach felt like he had a small balloon down in his lower abdomen that was slowly swelling up.

With a curse muttered under his breath, Harry tossed everything he didn't want to carry around onto his bed, went back through the common room, exited Gryffindor tower, and then headed in the direction of the hospital wing to see Madam Pomfrey. Not too far into his journey, he heard other students headed his way and ducked into an empty hallway to avoid them. It's not like Harry was doing anything wrong, but no matter  _who_ came across him, the news that Harry needed to figure out what was wrong with him after eating an unknown treacle tart – well, it was embarrassing enough to want to keep quiet. No one would just let him go without pestering him for details or making fun of him.

When the way was clear, Harry quietly sprinted, wishing that he had just grabbed his cloak and went undercover. Turning a corner, he slammed into something unexpected and went sprawling on the floor. As he lay on his back looking up at the ceiling, he sneezed a few times in an attempt to clear the strange scent from his nose.

“Buggering hell!” Malfoy blurted out in horror. “Do you have any idea what you just did, you incompetent half wit?!”

Harry sat up to look at him, and that was when he noticed that both of them were covered in a viscous pink liquid that smelled overwhelming. “Er... What is this stuff?”

Malfoy sighed, pressing his forehead into the fingers of his right hand. “We have to get to the infirmary as quickly as possible.”

“No problem, I was headed there anyway,” Harry stated with a frown. “But, erm, why?”

“Because I am a prefect and I just confiscated a potion from a student that is literally intended to make the person taking it not only eager to have sex with the person who gave it to them, but the person taking it won't remember it after the fact,” Malfoy explained as calmly as possible, slowly shifting so that he could get to his feet.

“That's terrible!” Harry cried out in horror. “That's rape! That is rape, right?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Of course it is!” He then looked at the slime all over him. “Hopefully the fact that we did not ingest any of this means that it won't affect us. Especially if we get to Madam Pomfrey right away.”

Harry sort of leapt to his feet at that. “Right!” He held out a hand to help Malfoy up, which he took simply to save time.

The moment both were on their feet, they stared at their joined hands in horror. A tingly feeling was radiating up their arms to their necks, and then throughout the rest of their bodies. Harry was actually a bit fascinated by it, but he could see a look of terror cross Malfoy's eyes. Harry quickly dropped his hand.

“Hospital wing,” Harry stated firmly.

“Right!” Draco fervently agreed.

They both took off sprinting, making it a sort of competition, but somewhere along the line, the competition ended and Draco grabbed Harry's hand to fling him into an empty classroom. Harry was panting heavily, and it had nothing to do with running. Malfoy seemed to be torn between the effects of the potion and the last little bit of sanity he had.

“Hos... hosp...” he tried to remind himself, only to pull out his wand and cast spells to lock the door and ward against being discovered – including a silencing spell.

Harry felt stranger than he ever had in his life. On the one hand, he could feel the physical effects of the potion; the tingling, the heat, the pleasant little shivers. On the other hand, it felt like the part of him that was his conscious – that  _knew_ better than to stay here; that  _knew_ he needed to get to the infirmary – that part was like a little observer in the corner of his mind. That part was actually really very curious.

_This is going to happen, isn't it?_ Harry thought. That rational observer had already put two and two together. He had been splashed with a date rape potion, and now he was alone in a locked classroom with Draco Malfoy of all people. 

Draco was doing a rather impressive job of fighting the potion – not such a good job that he unlocked the door and ran away, but enough that he was currently not looking at Harry and was standing far enough away that he couldn't just reach out and grab Harry. Harry could see that they were both shaking from sheer  _need_ . Running his hands distractedly through his hair, Harry thought:  _fuck it!_

Then he crossed the distance between them and pushed Draco up against the wall. Their mouths came together in a hot explosion that felt like fireworks. Draco grunted breathlessly in surprise and passion before licking Harry's lips until they opened for him.

Their tongues fought a mini battle that quickly urged them on. Another effect of the potion was that it felt positively sweltering in the room – even though it was actually a bit frigid. So, they tore at their clothes, trying to strip as quickly as possible. This was hindered by the snogging they simply refuse to stop. It was like they would die if their lips weren't in contact with each other.

Until suddenly, there seemed to be a lack of air that forced them apart. Draco gasped, sucking in oxygen as he panted heavier than ever. “Oh Gods! You have no idea...”

Harry also needed air, but he felt like he was going to start crying if he didn't maintain contact, so he shifted his mouth to Draco's neck. Those kisses and licks made Draco shiver uncontrollably. When Harry clamped on and sucked Draco's neck, he gasped again. “No idea how long...”

Harry's hands were everywhere! That observer in the back of his mind noticed that they had managed to strip completely naked by this point. If Harry's baser nature wasn't so busy being pleased by leaving a trail of dark bruises up and down Draco's neck, he probably would have pushed Draco onto his back by now.

Harry tried to slow down and think for a moment, but all he could do was sink his teeth into Draco's neck hard enough to nearly draw blood. “Mine!” He growled before hissing the word repeatedly in Parseltongue.

Draco shivered again. “You have no idea how hot that is!”

This actually did make Harry pull back so that he could look Draco in the eyes. “What? This?” Harry hissed:  _You are mine and I will not let anyone else have you._

“Yes!” Draco gasped, completely overcome by desire. “It's a shame that we're probably not going to remember any of this.”

“We're not?!” Harry exclaimed in disappointment.

“I'm pretty sure we're both being effected as if we'd drank the potion,” Draco pointed out. 

He wasn't sure why, but he seemed to be slightly clearer headed than Harry. Maybe Harry had gotten more potion on him. In any case, Draco was still clearly under the influence. No matter how many times the rational part of his mind reminded him that this was wrong, he just couldn't stop himself.

Draco was tired of waiting for Harry to make the next move, and impatiently pushed him onto the pile of their clothes. “You're going to suck me!”

Harry sat up, strangely amused. He cast Draco a grin of pure challenge. “Oh am I?”

“Yes,” Draco confirmed, grabbing Harry's hair to hold him steady. His other hand forced a few fingers into Harry's mouth and pried it open.

Harry considered biting Draco, but maybe the potion was overpowering him, or maybe Harry was just that curious, either way, he opened his mouth and held still while Draco inserted his rock hard shaft. Draco then rocked his hips in a way that forced Harry to give a blowjob, but was just careful enough not to choke him.

“That's right; suck it! Use your tongue!” Draco commanded, calling out instructions that frankly made Harry shiver in bliss. He tried to comply, but now that Draco's other hand was holding the back of his neck – the first one still in his hair – Harry had no real choice but to hold still and take it.

“Oh Gods! That mouth!” Draco cried out after many long minutes, throwing his head back. Harry smirked and took the opportunity to grab his wand from the pile of clothes under him and cast a light tripping jinx. Suddenly, Draco found himself on his back.

“Should I do the same to you?” Harry purred in a clear challenge. He then grabbed Draco's hair.

“A Malfoy does not suck anyone!” Draco growled, his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I'll take that as a yes,” Harry stated with a smirk. He then cast a body binding curse so that Draco couldn't fight him off.

“I'll kill you for this!” Draco warned as Harry used his fingers to pry open Draco's mouth.

“You're the one who said that we wouldn't remember this,” Harry reminded him with a careless shrug. He then switched to Parseltongue. _If we_ were _going to remember this, I'd probably just let you do whatever you want, but since were not going to remember this, I may as well have as much fun as possible. I'll treat you exactly the way you treat me. I should probably even break_ your _nose like you broke mine._

Draco couldn't move because of the curse, but if he could, he would be shuddering from being so damn turned on. “Are you going to just kneel there all day, Potter? If you're going to do it,  _do it!_ ”

With another smirk because his plan had worked, Harry yanked Draco to a sitting position, and then slowly slid his shaft into Draco's mouth. Then, just to be a prat, he released the binding spell and waited to see how long Draco would take to notice this fact. It only took two minutes for Draco's hands to join in on the action – which was rapidly making Harry's knees shake! 

Even so, it was closer to five minutes before Draco actually realized what he was doing. He pulled back abruptly to stare at his hands, and then flushed when he realized that he had been blowing Harry of his own volition.

“That was a dirty trick worthy of a Slytherin!” Draco exclaimed in shock. More than half of him was impressed.

Harry laughed softly, pushing Draco onto his back again and laying completely on top of him. They resumed their fierce snogging, this time rubbing their hard shafts together in a grinding way that was actually not very pleasant. Draco waved his hand impatiently, and suddenly lube materialized between them, coating their shafts and turning their grinding into pure heaven.

The moment Draco felt that the end was near, he pushed Harry away. Then he grabbed his wand and cast a spell that forced Harry to his knees with his arms bound behind his back. After that, Draco decided to yank on Harry's hair until his face was pressed to the cold floor.

Harry felt Draco kneel behind him and push his legs apart. A wet sensation let him know that there was oil on his anus, which then had something hard rub against it. Harry gasped in realization.

“Malfoy! Wait!”

Draco didn't seem inclined to wait, but he hadn't actually pressed into Harry yet. He simply continued what he was doing for a few extra seconds.

“I've never done anything like this before,” Harry cried out quickly. He was still under the influence of the potion, and probably at least 80 percent curious to find out what would happen next, but he was also scared that it would hurt.

This actually did make Draco pause for a moment. He had a little experience and could easily understand how bad it could be for a first time if things weren't done to make it easier. The real problem was that the potion wanted him to  _do it now!_

Realizing that Draco was hesitating, Harry continued. “I'm not saying no, I'm just scared – and you have to realize how hard it is for me to admit that to  _you_ of all people. Please just... just don't hurt me...”

Draco took a deep breath so that he could calm down just enough to cast a few spells to prepare Harry. Harry felt weird. He could feel the magic doing something, but he couldn't figure out what it was doing. Well, one of the spells felt like it was gently prying him open, so he figured that the spells were to make sure he wasn't hurt.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered before taking a deep breath and bracing himself for what was going to happen next.

Draco tried to enter Harry slowly and give him all the time he needed to adjust, but Draco was starting to see red – not an angry red, but a hazy, lusty red. He went a little faster than he should have, but Harry simply gasped and took it without complaint.

Harry moaned when he felt Draco buried deep. The entrance had been a bit painful, but now that he was in, Harry rather liked the feel. The only thing that really bothered him was the way his face was pressed into the floor, making his neck ache, and actually, his shoulders ached a bit from having his hands behind his back.

Then Draco moved and the world spun out of control. “Oh God!” Harry cried out in astonishment. The feel of a hard shaft pounding into him was possibly the best thing he had ever felt in his life! He would not be surprised if his Patronus materialized right next to him!

Maybe the most surprising thing of all was that he had no stimulation to his shaft, but Harry was getting really close anyway. It was strange because it felt like an orgasm was right there, hovering just out of reach. Not to mention, Draco seemed to have the stamina to have Harry on the verge for what felt like eons!

Just when Harry was sure that it was going to happen... Just when it felt like his orgasm was a golden snitch that he was a moment away from catching, Draco slammed into him particularly hard, and then roared softly in triumph. Harry felt a wet heat that was wonderful even as that orgasmic bliss faded away.

Draco slumped over Harry and panted until he caught his breath. Then he chuckled lightly. “If this potion lasts long enough, I'm definitely doing that again.”

A moment later, Draco sort of collapsed to the side, knocking Harry onto his side too. This gave Harry an opportunity to grab his wand, end the binding spell, and then catch Draco off guard. Draco gasped and then muttered a colorful curse at himself for letting Harry bind his hands.

Draco was now flat on his back with his hands magically held together and to the floor. “I can still kick you, and I will if you try anything! I do  _not_ bottom!”

“You did me,” Harry stated before pinching one of Draco's nipples. He then stroked his hand from Draco's throat down to just above his groin several times. Harry's mouth kissed and licked Draco's chest while his hand eventually petted the hair just above Draco's spent shaft.

Draco moaned and squirmed. He was torn between protesting and wanting to know what Harry planned to do next. When his blood felt like it was rushing through his body like a herd of Thestrals in flight, Draco made a noise that was a cross between a groan and a whine.

“By Merlin and Salazar! I _swear_ that if you don't get on with it _this instant,_ I'm going to hex you into oblivion!” 

Harry chuckled. “I thought you were going to kick me if I tried anything.”

“Oh I'm still going to kick you, but what you're doing is driving me mad! I know that telling you to stop will do no good, so that just leaves telling you to do it. That way, you'll move into range and I can _actually_ kick you,” Draco explained.

“I only know a spell to conjure oil for lubrication,” Harry informed him. “The reason I haven't moved on yet is because I'm not sure what else I would need to do to prepare you.” Harry then looked away. “And I'm not sure if the potion is wearing off a bit or what, but half of me is crying out in pain because I am not inside you. The other half is terrified of hurting you.”

Draco was silent as he thought this over.  _I'm not going to remember any of this anyway, so..._ Then he sighed. “There are spells you can use.”

Harry was hugely relieved when Draco told him the spells. He practiced casting them in the air a couple of times before casting them on Draco. “Did I do it right?”

“Barely,” Draco sneered, unable to let himself sound eager, even though he was. He obviously had sexual experience, but not with bottoming. He liked to be the top, but he also found it extremely hot that Harry had him bound and slightly helpless.

Harry wasted no time getting into position and entering Draco. The potion made his blood practically sing in his veins. He felt like a haze came over him making him want to have sex for the rest of his life if possible.

“Yes,” Harry hissed, first in English, and then repeatedly in Parseltongue.

“Gods! I wish I knew what you were saying!” Draco cried out, shivering because the strange language seemed to have a powerful effect on him. It was so powerful that he was completely distracted from the rushed and unskilled way that Harry was shoving himself into Draco.

_Mine_ , Harry growled possessively in Parseltongue. He was now buried deep with Draco's legs wrapped around his waist. 

An insane urge made him stop completely for a moment and bite Draco's shoulder hard enough to make Draco hiss. It would leave a mark – and probably a dark bruise – but didn't draw blood. Then Harry bit Draco's neck, followed by Draco's lower lip. This was also hard enough to leave a bruise and also drew just a little blood. Enough that Harry spent about a minute sucking and licking up the tiny drops of blood.

“As much as I am rather astonishingly enjoying this, if you don't move soon, Potter, I'm going to kick you out of me!” Draco threatened. He moved his legs which were around Harry's waist in a way that proved he could actually evict Harry if he wanted to.

Harry slid back in deep. “I'll move,” he promised, before doing exactly that. The real problem was that he could feel the potion encouraging him to rut like a mindless beast, and everything felt so good that he knew it wouldn't take long to finish. He readjusted Draco's legs so that they weren't holding him so close, and then gripped Draco's hips as he tried to maintain a moderate pace that felt glorious.

His fingers dug into Draco's hips hard enough to probably leave bruises as he just kept going faster and faster. Actually, it might have been harder rather than faster, because even Harry felt like it was a bit violent. But he couldn't stop. He desperately  _longed_ to bruise and bite and  _own_ every inch of Draco's body.

Harry prayed in that tiny, rational part of his mind that this scary primal urge was part of the potion, because he didn't want to be like this the next time he had sex. He wanted to be normal. Playful.

Draco was writhing under Harry, making noises that sounded like he was thoroughly enjoying what was happening. In fact, the rougher Harry was, the more Draco seemed to enjoy it. When Draco whimpered a softly mewling sound at a particularly hard thrust, Harry lost it. The whole world felt like it was spinning as he pumped Draco full.

Harry collapsed onto Draco, panting until he could catch his breath. Then he drifted in a hazy, floaty state until Draco growled.

“Release my hands, Potter! They're starting to hurt.”

Harry patted around absently until he located where his wand had been placed, and then mentally cast a Finite before dropping his wand again. He then snuggled into Draco. Draco took a moment to rub his wrists, then realized that he was being used as a pillow. He pushed Harry off him.

Harry lay on his back and looked up at the ceiling. A soft snort escaped him. “This sucks! I'm not even going to remember my first time... or my second...” Which referred to the fact that Draco had taken one virginity and then Harry had lost his other to Draco.

“Really?” Draco asked with interest. “You were a virgin? Then where did you learn the kinky biting thing?”

“No idea!” Harry exclaimed with a shake of his head and a shrug.

Draco rolled onto his side and looked intently at Harry. “As I said, if the potion lasted long enough, I was going to do you again, and so you're not going to remember your third time either.”

Harry took careful note of the way his body felt. His mind seemed almost completely clear again, but his body was definitely gagging for more. A  _lot_ more! “Or my fourth, I suspect.”

Draco grinned in a way that was very reminiscent of the big bad wolf. A moment later, he was on top of Harry, licking and nipping Harry's neck. Harry had gotten him hard again during their hot sex, and now Draco was ready to take care of the situation.

And Harry thought Draco had stamina the first time! The good thing was that with no binding spells and the two of them facing each other, Harry could focus on snogging Draco as Draco focused on his thrusting. It was thoroughly satisfying in a way that couldn't  _all_ be the result of the potion. Harry sincerely hoped!

By the time that Draco was done, Harry was ready to go again. So he did, but first, he flipped Draco over. It seemed only fair to have Draco on his hands and knees since Draco had taken Harry's virginity with his face pressed to the floor.

When they were done, Draco cursed in frustration. “The potion is still crying out for more, but I'm pretty sure I can't!”

“Same here,” Harry admitted. “But at least I feel like I can get up and do something else. Well, actually, by that, I mean that I might be able to crawl back to Gryffindor tower and go to bed.”

“We probably should leave this room while we can still think before the potion takes over again and makes us attack each other,” Draco suggested.

“Hey Malfoy, we're not going to remember any of this anyway, right?” Harry asked.

“Not unless the potion was brewed wrong, but I doubt that because it has worked perfectly so far,” Draco reasoned. Then frowned curiously. “Why?”

Harry got to his hands and knees, and then shifted to straddle Draco's lap. After that, he pulled Draco up into a mostly sitting position with Draco supporting himself with his arms. Lastly, Harry kissed Draco; a soft yet passionate kiss that left them both breathless. Draco's arms eventually wound around Harry's body, holding him tight. Their snogging got very heavy, until Draco pushed Harry away. 

“Stop!” Draco cried out. “If we keep this up, I'm not going to be able to ignore the potion and walk away.”

“Sorry,” Harry murmured. “I just wanted to do that while still under the influence so that this ended in a good way, rather than coldly going back to our dorms without even a goodbye.”

Draco raised one eyebrow. “You're acting like a girl!” Then he sighed. “But I suppose that it's not too unreasonable for you to expect some tenderness since it was your first time.”

“What about you?” Harry asked curiously.

“No,” Draco stated with a shrug. “Slytherins tend to mess around for stress relief. It doesn't mean anything to any of us, so we practice whatever we want when we need a break from studying.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured. Half of him felt disappointed and hissed out _mine_ , but the other half of him – or maybe more than half – was actually curious about this concept. “I wish it was like that in Gryffindor tower. I'm might not have been a virgin then.”

Draco gently pushed Harry off his lap since letting him stay there was rapidly erasing his resolve to go to bed and sleep off the rest of the potion. He quickly pulled on his robe, buttoned it up, and then shrank the rest of his clothes so they'd fit in his pocket.

“If it's any consolation, I have never bottomed before,” Draco informed Harry, who was just sitting there watching him. “So you took a virginity of mine. Twice,” Draco stated with an amused smirk. “And I'm also not going to remember that, but there will be plenty of evidence to make me wonder what happened.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, that actually does make me feel a little better.” He then got up and copied Draco's actions by only pulling on his robe and shrinking everything else. “It's weird, I know I still hate you, but at this moment, all I can think about is throwing you up against the wall again, snogging you senseless, and then shagging you until we pass out.”

Draco huffed a laugh. “That would be the potion. Don't worry, the next time we see each other, we'll be back to normal and will probably try to kill one another.”

“Yeah, probably,” Harry murmured sadly. He then pushed Draco up against the wall and stole his breath.

Draco moaned in longing before pushing Harry away. “I'm exhausted! … Oh fuck it!” 

They were both obviously hard and wanting it again, so he pulled Harry close and dug his fingers into Harry's hips as they ground together through their robes. It was dry and rough, but it felt good anyway. The snogging seemed to be the real key though as it pulled another orgasm from both of them that made their knees give out. They tumbled to the floor as they gasped for breath.

“I mean it this time!” Draco growled when he could speak. He proved his point by ending all the spells he'd cast on the room, and then used the indents in the stone wall of the classroom as handholds to climb back to his feet. On very wobbly legs, he opened the door and left the room.

Hesitating for one moment, Draco turned to look back into the room. “Good night, Potter. I hope you sleep well after all this.”

Harry chuckled and attempted to crawl out of the room. As he did so, he gasped out: “Of crap! I was on my way to the hospital wing!” He noticed Draco look back at him as he kept staggering away. Harry sighed. “Well, I guess it couldn't have been poison after all since I didn't get sick and die.”

This was good news because he  _really_ didn't want to go see Madam Pomfrey at this exact moment, because that would only lead to a very awkward explanation that he didn't want to have to give her. Ever.

Somehow managing to get to his feet, he wobbled and stumbled his way back to Gryffindor tower. The little he had seen of Draco walking away confirmed that the other boy was in the same shape. Oddly, this made Harry grin triumphantly.

Once back in his common room, he was frustrated to find that it was full of other students. About half of his fellow Gryffindors stared at him in shocked silence, while the other half promptly started asking each other if they were really seeing Harry Potter covered in love bites. Harry decided to avoid the whole messy conversation by going directly to his dorm.

Of course, both Ron and Hermione ran after him. They were followed by Neville, Dean, and Seamus. Harry sincerely wished that he had the ability to lock everyone out of the room for a while.

“What happened to you?!” Ron asked in astonishment. Harry was positively disheveled, and that was saying something considering the usual state of his hair.

Seamus heckled Ron. “What do you  _think_ happened to him?!”

Hermione sat on Harry's bed with him and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Are you okay?” She alone saw something off in Harry's expression.

“I'm really not sure,” Harry replied honestly. He looked around and sighed because he knew that he wouldn't get away with telling them nothing. “Yes, it happened, but, _well..._ ”

Hermione frowned. “Would you rather that I wasn't here for this?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Then I'd just have to tell you later on, and I'd rather just get it over with and go to sleep. It's those nosy buggers I wish weren't here.” But then he smirked at his dorm mates to let them know that he wasn't completely serious.

“We can leave the room,” Neville offered. His need to be a good friend outweighed his curiosity.

“No, it's fine,” Harry assured him. “I'm not going to go into details because, well, it's not fair if you all know more than me, and I'm not going to remember it. So here's what I will tell you. I was accidentally covered in a potion that is intended to make a person exceedingly horny and then not remember anything the next morning. And yes,” he practically glared at Hermione. “It actually _was_ an accident.”

Hermione decided not to ask him if he was sure about that. Instead, she gave him a tiny smile. “Okay. So you said that it did happen. I'm assuming that by it, you're referring to...”

Harry blushed and looked away from her. “Sex, yes.”

“Whoa! Mate, I think you should probably be talking to McGonagal!” Ron suggested. His concern was that Harry was unwilling and needed to report the incident before he forgot.

Harry fervently shook his head. “No! Listen, it happened and I liked it and I really wish I would remember it, but I'm not going to since the potion is made to make the person forget. As it happens, the  _other_ person involved was accidentally doused in it too, so there will be no memory of the event whatsoever. I'm only telling you any of this so that when I wake up with no memory of it tomorrow, but then look in the mirror and see these love bites, I'm going to freak out, and I'm going to need you to explain it to me. I need you all to be able to tell me that I knew what was happening and said yes anyway.”

“Why not write it down?” Hermione asked, squeezing his hand gently again. “At least then you'll have your own first hand account of what happened, and you'll probably want to know at least some of the details.”

Harry sighed. “I'm not so sure that's a good idea...”

“Why?” Hermione asked with a curious frown.

Harry looked around again, and then sighed in frustration. He suddenly cast a silencing spell around his bed and partially closed his curtain so that no one could try to read his lips as he talked to Hermione. Ron stepped closer because he felt that he would normally be included, but Harry held up a hand asking him to stay back.

“I'll tell you a little more, and then you can tell me if I should write it down or not,” Harry said, and then took a deep breath. “It was with a bloke. It was really _really_ good, and I didn't even think that sex with blokes was something I'd be willing to try. I _know_ that it's because of the potion, and that I won't be into blokes once it wears off. So, on the one hand, I'd love to remember it because it was my first time and I liked it. Actually, I am pretty sure that I _loved_ every moment of it!”

Harry sighed a bit morosely. “But on the other hand, I don't want to think about what happened and dwell on it and question myself when I have so many other things to think about. Worry about. And then there's the matter of who. I might just be tempted to off myself if I remembered  _who_ it was.”

Hermione took a deep breath, and then nodded very slowly. “I understand. It's all very confusing and maybe you're right. Maybe you would be better off not knowing, but Harry... If it were me, I'd at least want to know that I enjoyed it, otherwise I would probably think I was brutally violated.  _Especially_ with that bruising on your neck and – Merlin! Even your lips are bruised. And there's a weird red spot on your one cheek.”

Harry blushed again. “Yeah, I'm sure it looks bad, but it wasn't.”

Hermione shrugged. “All I'm saying is that you are going to wake up with bruises and other marks, and probably a sore bottom...”

Harry blushed even redder and looked away from her. 

“Mmmhmm,” Hermione hummed in confirmation. “So it's going to look like you were battered at the very least, or possibly raped. Consider explaining to yourself in a note that this was all a result of something you enjoyed.”

Harry tilted his head to the side, gave a half shrug, and then nodded a tiny bit.

“And you are certain that you don't want even yourself to know _who_?” Hermione asked.

“I really don't think I would believe myself – for one – and if I _did_ believe me, I might...” Harry trailed off. Overreact almost certainly. Consider claiming something happened that didn't. Hex _him_ in the hall, or worse, harm _himself..._

“Fine,” Hermione stated with a tiny smile. “I'll try to research this potion you were hit with. Maybe I can find some sort of counter potion or a spell that will unlock your memories, but don't count on it. Memory is tricky, and if this potion is designed to erase your memories, then it's probable that there won't be anything there to recover.”

“I know,” Harry murmured softly. “It's okay, Hermione. I don't think I can explain it, but I knew before anything happened that I was under the influence of a potion and that I wasn't going to remember any of it, and I sort of decided to just go with it. I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't have done some of it if I knew I'd remember it later, which is rather ironic because those are the parts I want to remember the most.”

Hermione sighed in wry acceptance. “It's too bad we don't know the spell to capture a memory for a pensieve. I could go look it up real quick, but I think that it would probably take too long to learn enough to use it tonight.”

Harry perked up. “That is too bad! But I think I might want to learn it tomorrow so that I'll know it if something like this ever happens again.”

“That's a good idea,” Hermione agreed. She then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. After that, she slid off his bed and took a piece of parchment and a quill out of her bag.

Now that the silence spell was broken, the others could hear them talking. Hermione handed the parchment and quill to Harry.

“Write down just the bits you want to remember. Write it like a letter to yourself, because you are the only one who ever needs to read it. And Harry? Please consider writing down the bits you don't want to remember, because it might turn out to be important to you later on,” Hermione advised.

Harry muttered a yeah, but it was clearly a  _yeah I don't want to so go away_ rather than a  _yeah you're right so I'll do what you say._

Hermione walked over to the side of the bed that belonged to Ron. He was now sitting in bed trying to decide if he should be mad at Harry for not including him. After all, this was the sort of stuff that one usually told their best mate, and Harry had told Hermione.

_I suppose that they must have gotten even closer than ever when I was dating Lavender,_ Ron grumbled in his head. He looked up at Hermione to find her regarding him with a careful yet sympathetic expression. She leaned over to murmur in his ear.

“Don't be upset. He's dealing with a lot and he thought I might be able to do research if I knew more information.” Hermione didn't think of it as outright lying since she was planning to do research, but she also didn't want Ron to think that the two of them were still mad at him.

Ron nodded and mentally vowed to be understanding. After that, Hermione left the room. Ron looked over to find Harry busy writing his letter. Seamus grinned now that the girl had left the room.

“Did you at least get a blowjob?” Seamus asked, making Neville blush and look away even as they all waited for the answer.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured.

“How did it feel?” Seamus asked.

“Good. Amazing,” Harry answered, still mostly focused on what he was writing. In a way, Hermione was right. He did want to know some details, and so he was willing to answer questions as he wrote since the questions helped him think everything through.

“And...” Dean began hesitantly. “When you said sex, did you mean all the way to penetration, or just hands and mouth?”

“Yeah. All of it,” Harry informed him. He paused to smirk at Dean. “And then all of it again. And before you ask, it was bloody brilliant.”

Ron gaped at him incredulously. “You mean you had sex twice?!”

Harry shrugged and looked away evasively. “ _Well..._ ”

Ron scratched his head. “More than twice?”

“It was apparently a _very_ potent potion,” Harry replied with another shrug.

“No wonder you were gone for hours,” Neville murmured. Like all of them, he was on his bed ready for sleep. “Since sometime during dinner.”

Harry wanted to explain that he hadn't been buggering  _all_ that time, but he couldn't because sheer exhaustion set in very abruptly as the very last of the lust portion of the potion wore off. Harry swayed a bit woozily, and then fell asleep sitting up in his bed.

Ron checked him to be sure that he was asleep rather than unconscious – or dead. Upon hearing soft snores, Ron removed Harry's glasses and helped him lay properly on the bed. He would have magicked Harry out of his school robe, but it was obvious by the way it rode up that Harry was not wearing his entire school uniform. Ron didn't really want to know what else might be revealed if he changed Harry into his pajamas.

After covering Harry with his blanket, Ron went back to bed.

 

***

 

Harry woke to find all of his dorm mates staring at him. “Am I running late to class? Have I missed breakfast?” Harry wondered curiously as he grabbed his glasses and put them on.

Ron tilted his head and gave Harry a strange look. “How are you feeling?”

Harry paused to think this over. “Really good. I slept like a log!”

Neville nodded. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure you didn't have any nightmares last night.”

Harry realized something important. “And I'm sore all over. Was I flying and fell off my broom?” He frowned as he realized that  _that_ wouldn't explain why he was in his own bed if he had, and also why he didn't remember it.

“So... You really don't remember last night?” Ron asked, exchanging glances with everyone else.

Harry had to really think this over. He was surprised to find that it was true. “No! I remember leaving the great hall early, but after that, it's all a blank. I don't even know how I made it back to our common room from dinner.”

Ron picked up the letter that he had set aside when putting Harry to bed last night. He hadn't read it beyond a glance, and he purposely avoided looking at it now. “You should probably read this before you get out of bed.”

Harry raised a brow at Ron, intrigued. Then he read the letter.

_Dear Harry – er, me, I suppose. You won't remember anything when you wake up, but you had really good sex. Yep, you are no longer a virgin! And actually, you really_ really _aren't a virgin anymore. It was amazing and brilliant and you liked it. All four times. Actually, it might be five, depending on what can fit into the definition of sex. You are writing this letter at Hermione's suggestion because she thinks that you'll want to remember the details, so here goes!_

Harry frowned and looked at the back of the parchment, but it was as blank as the rest of the first page. Spotting made Harry wonder if he had been interrupted somehow. He examined the letter closely, unable to believe a word of it despite it being his handwriting.

“Where's the rest of it?” Harry asked with a puzzled frown. “You know, the part where I tell myself that this is all some big joke.”

They all shook their heads. “It's no joke, mate,” Dean informed him.

“Not unless you're the one playing it on us,” Seamus added.

Ron gestured to the letter. “You fell asleep while writing, and so that's all there is.”

Harry handed the letter to Ron. “So you're telling me that I not only wrote that, but it's true?”

Ron read the letter. “Four times?! Son of a...”

The letter got passed around. 

“Actually, five. I wonder what you're referring to,” Seamus muttered.

Dean looked to his best friend. “Maybe the fifth refers to that blowjob he talked about.”

This made Harry sit up in bed abruptly. He winced as he realized that he was sore in places he hadn't noticed yet. Then a look of dawning horror crept across his face. He shook his head to push that aside for the moment.

“Wait! So I told you the details?!”

They all shook their heads. 

“Not really,” Neville replied sympathetically.

“You answered questions,” Ron said. “You admitted to having an amazing blowjob and to also going all the way, more than once.”

“But that was it,” Dean stated, finishing up the explanation.

Harry looked down to find that he was wearing his school robe, and a quick peek inside it revealed that he wasn't wearing anything else. He took a quick sniff and pulled a face.

“Ugh! I reek! I should probably take a shower,” Harry muttered to himself. Then he looked back up at Ron. “Did I happen to mention _why_ I had sex and maybe more importantly, why I wouldn't remember it?”

“Some sort of potion equivalent to a roofie,” Dean explained, using a muggle term that Harry would probably recognize.

Harry shifted, felt that very odd soreness again, and then felt the sense of horror sink in again. “Someone  _roofied_ me?!”

“You said it was an accident,” Neville hastily reassured him. “Ron suggested that you go report it, but you refused.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “You said that you didn't want to report it because you liked it and wished that you could remember it.”

“You said you knew what was happening and said yes anyway,” Seamus finished.

Harry took his letter back and read it again. “Well, that fits with what I wrote.” He then sighed. “We should probably get ready for breakfast.”

“Are you alright?” Ron asked in concern.

“Well, aside from being sore and not remembering any of the apparently brilliant sex I had, I'm fine,” Harry muttered. And it was true. He felt cheated by not being able to remember, but other than that, he still felt fairly wonderful and a bit euphoric. 

He decided to reassure Ron. “And actually, I  _feel_ like I had sex, I guess. Sort of relaxed and happy.”

Ron followed Harry into the showers, and since they all needed to wash up, the rest followed Ron. Before Harry could even strip, he caught a look at his reflection in the mirrors. It was a sight to make his mouth gape open.

“Merlin, Godric, and Dumbledore!” Harry swore. On either side of his neck were a pair of large bruises, along with a couple of smaller ones. Normally, he might have waited until he was not being stared at, but at the moment, he was just too astonished by what he was seeing, so, he took off his robe and dropped it on the floor.

A close inspection – aided by the mirrors when necessary – showed that he had love bites on his neck, a red spot on his right cheek, red lines on his wrists, bruises on his hips – that looked like finger prints – and scratches on his back, chest, and arse. Not to mention sticky and itchy residue around his groin.

“What the bloody hell happened to me?!” Harry roared in shock.

“Apparently a very kinky shag,” Seamus replied with a cheeky wink. “Wish I knew who she was, I'd buy her chocolates and flowers everyday for a month if she'd consider going out with me!”

“Er...” Harry droned for a moment. His brain was currently blank. Completely blank. “Now I wish I had gotten farther in my letter before falling asleep.”

He then showered and spent far longer than necessary inspecting his body and trying to piece together what had happened. Since it was a blank, he had no luck. Thankfully, rather than feel violated, he felt happy that he'd apparently really liked it... But also disappointed and nearly depressed that he couldn't remember it.

The rest of his dorm mates showered much more quickly and got dressed, figuring that Harry probably needed some time alone to think. As he was toweling off after his shower, a thought occurred to him. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to walk around school with obvious love bites.

“Hey Dean, do you know any healing spells for bruises?” Harry called out. The bathroom door was open a little, so he knew Dean would hear him.

“Er, mate, Hermione is out here,” Dean called back to him.

“Oh,” Harry muttered, and then pulled on the bathrobe he had waiting for him. “Actually, Hermione, you know the spells, right?” He asked as he walked out of the bathroom.

Hermione didn't even bother to answer, she simply pulled out her wand and cast the spell to make the bruises disappear from his neck. “Did you take my advice?”

“About the letter?” Harry asked, and then gestured to his bed where it was lying. “See for yourself.”

Hermione read it since she had permission. She blushed lightly, but since it wasn't very descriptive, it wasn't all that embarrassing.

Harry saw her questioning look. “I fell asleep before I could write another word, and now I'm kicking myself because I'm  _dying_ to know what happened!”

Hermione looked down. “I did the research I said I would – about the potion and how it works. There's no way to recover the memory. So then I looked up the spell to extract a memory for viewing in a pensieve, and it's actually fairly simple. You just concentrate really hard on the memory and think the word extract when you're ready. You'd already fallen asleep by the time I read that.”

“That's okay, at least I know now,” Harry reassured her. Then he lightly blushed as well. “Er... Since you know healing spells, can I ask you a really embarrassing favor?”

Hermione looked up at him with wide eyes, guessing what he probably wanted. “Er... Yeah... Bathroom?”

Harry nodded. He led her into the bathroom, shut the door, and then locked it and cast a silencing spell. Before telling her the most important thing he wanted healed, he held out his wrists.

“These probably look bad,” Harry murmured.

Hermione simply cast the healing spell. “Are you hurt badly? Should I be summoning my essence of dittany for wounds or...  _tearing_ ?”

“So I told you more than everyone else?” Harry guessed with a smile.

“Well, I'm not sure what you told them after I left, probably a few embarrassing details, but you did tell me something I don't think you told anyone else,” Hermione stated with a tiny but reassuring smile. “It was a bloke.”

Harry sighed, feeling a little relieved that he wasn't crazy. “So I was right about that. My arse is so sore and rather hurts when I'm sitting. I didn't think that was normal if I had been with a girl...”

Hermione blushed a good ten shades of red. “I, er... I can't heal it if I can't see it, so...”

Harry took a deep breath, and then muttered: “I'm not sure I'd be comfortable showing you this if you actually  _were_ my sister, but here goes...”

Before he could do anything, Hermione stopped him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I think of you as my brother too. Please don't think I'm looking with any sort of sexual interest. If anything, I'm sort of intrigued because of the healing aspect of it.”

Harry laughed. “I had a feeling that you would say that!” Feeling a little better and slightly less embarrassed, Harry dropped his bathrobe and turned so that his back was to her.

Hermione cleared her throat. “I can heal the scratches and these other bruises first, if you want.”

“Nah, I want to keep them – as a reminder that it really happened. Even though the reminder won't last long,” Harry said, and then shrugged because it probably didn't make sense to her.

Sounding a bit awkward now, Hermione cleared her throat again. “Can you, er, well, can you bend over and show me what you want healed?”

Harry complied, tempted to start laughing hysterically. To her credit, Hermione cast the healing spell quickly and without comment. Then she turned around to face to wall. 

“You can get dressed now,” she informed him, so he pulled his bathrobe back on.

“Thank you,” Harry praised her sincerely. He kissed her on the cheek. “I know that couldn't have been pleasant.”

Hermione smirked at him. “I know you would have done the same for me – if you knew the spell and I had needed it.”

“I would!” Harry assured her. “Though I rather hope that you don't need it, because then that would probably mean that you'd been roofied too.”

Hermione frowned. “Last night you said it was an accident.”

“I guess it was, but the potion itself is like a roofie, and since I don't remember anything, that's all I can call the experience,” Harry explained.

There was a pounding on the door, which Hermione promptly opened. Ron looked relieved that they were both still dressed – well,  _covered_ since Harry was only in a robe. Then he frowned. 

“We're going to miss breakfast altogether if we don't hurry!”

Hermione smiled at him. “Come on, let's go and let Harry get dressed.”

“I'll be down in a bit,” Harry stated with a smile. He then watched them leave. After that, he finally had time alone to think. Unfortunately, he still had nothing to think about other than wondering what had happened. Since it was impossible to remember, he quickly gave up and got dressed.

 

***

 

Harry picked at his food, but nothing looked good. He had terrible nausea that had plagued him on and off for over a week. It was probably why he thought food looked downright disgusting right now. 

However, the  _real_ problem was why he was nauseous in the first place. He'd thought it was a stomach bug or maybe the flu, but those were supposed to be quick and full of actual vomiting. This was just suffering.

Horrible suffering!

Harry summoned the pitcher of milk from down along the table and filled his cup. He'd discovered that while food looked repulsive, milk suddenly tasted delicious. Like nectar from the Gods! It even managed to calm his nausea after a while so that he could eat a few bites.

With a sigh, and  _desperate_ to take his mind off his stomach, Harry thought back to the night he couldn't remember. It had happened near the beginning of April, and now it was the middle of May. In just a little over a month, school would be over for the year, which was never a happy thought, so Harry pushed it out of his mind.

There was nothing he could do right now but worry and hope for the best.

 

***

 

Harry was glad that this illness always managed to wake him up before any of his dorm mates. He had just barely enough time each morning to make it into the bathroom and cast a silencing spell before spewing into the toilet. This had been going on for almost two weeks now, and Harry was finally getting fed up with it. Stress or not, this was getting excessive!

In determination, Harry rinsed out his mouth, left the bathroom, and then marched to the hospital wing – despite still being in his pajamas. It was still only 5:30 in the morning, and so he wasn't worried about anyone seeing him. To his surprise, Madam Pomfrey was awake.

“Don't look so surprised, Mr. Potter,” she stated with a little smirk. “I'm always up this early to check on my overnight patients before they wake up.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured, relieved to see that there wasn't actually any patients. “I, er...” He blushed lightly and looked away.

Pomfrey was tempted to roll her eyes. “What's this? Embarrassment? That usually only means one thing in a boy your age; you've found a girlfriend and need potions to make sure that she doesn't have to worry about accidents.”

“What?!” Harry asked in alarm. Then he fully realized what had been said and flushed a deep shade of red. “No! I, er... I didn't know there were such potions...”

“Oh yes,” Pomfrey assured him. “Hogwarts is dedicated to preventing unplanned pregnancy, and so we give out potions to prevent conception. Each student is given yearly exams as well and if a student – usually a muggleborn as purebloods tend to be resistant for some reason – anyway, if a student happens to be carrying a sexually transmitted disease, I treat that right away. Thus you do not have to worry about that. Well, not unless the girl you're seeing has left school recently and had relations with someone else. Now, which do you want? The potion to make her unable to conceive, or the one that makes _you_ unable to conceive?”

Harry gaped in astonishment that he was  _having_ this conversation. He also blushed that he hadn't realized that his yearly exam checked him for STDs. Pomfrey went on.

“I warn you that the male version of the potion often causes the inability to, er, _finish_ until the potion wears off approximately 24 hours later, while the female version has the benefit of adding to the pleasure. That was on purpose so that girls will _want_ to remember to take their potion beforehand.”

“Wait!” Harry blurted out, holding up his hands. “As much as I am actually fascinated to learn all this, I'm not here for contraceptive potions! I've just been puking my guts up every day for almost two weeks, and I was extremely nauseous for about a week before that. I figure that I'm just under so much stress that it's making me sick, and can you please give me something to make it stop?”

Pomfrey eyed him sharply for a moment. “You didn't happen to eat a treacle tart in the Gryffindor common room a few months ago, did you?”

“What?” Harry asked in confusion. “I bring treacle tarts up to my dorm all the time.”

Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Fine, I mean did you happen to eat one that was left unattended on a table in the common room that you hadn't put there?”

Harry thought back with a still confused frown. “Not that I can remember...” he murmured slowly.

Pomfrey sighed in relief. “Excellent! One of the Seventh Years had made her aunt a fertility potion at her request and stupidly forgot it on the table, only it disappeared. She frantically came to warn me that it had gone missing so that I could test all the girls for sudden increased fertility, but since they were all clear, we assume a boy must have eaten it. The girls all vowed to abstain in case I misdiagnosed them for at least 48 hours – but that's nothing you need to know.”

Harry was no longer embarrassed by the topic, and now wore a definitely curious expression. “Er... What happens if a boy takes the potion?”

“Oh, he develops a uterus and a temporary passage for semen to reach eggs – very fertile eggs, mind. It's a fertility potion for a reason.”

“So... he's not just more likely to get a girl up the duff?”

She shook her head. “No, because the majority of fertility potions are meant to work on the one who wants to carry the baby. If she becomes super fertile, then even a man with very low fertility will become a father. In rare cases, a man who is sterile can take a special fertility potion, but it's not guaranteed to work unless the woman takes a regular potion too since his enhanced fertility may still meet infertile eggs.” 

“Oh...” Harry didn't really know what to say to that. It wasn't a problem he expected to ever have to deal with, considering that he was part of a dangerous secret mission to defeat Voldemort.

“Anyway...” Pomfrey murmured, pointing her wand at him and casting a few diagnostic spells. As time passed, she seemed to get confused. “Tricky... you're not ill... not allergic... not poisoned... not reacting to a spell or a potion...”

Harry was starting to feel like she didn't believe him. “I swear! I really do vomit each morning, and actually, occasionally during the day, and food looks disgusting!”

“I wonder...” Pomfrey murmured thoughtfully. She cast another spell. “Gravida Probatur!” Immediately, Harry lit up yellow. “Aha...”

Harry felt relieved now that she believed him and had found the problem. “So, is there a potion I can take to get rid of it?”

“Well, yes, but...”

“But what?” Harry wondered with a frown.

“According to this yellow light you can clearly see, you must have eaten the missing tart after all,” Pomfrey explained unhelpfully.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Harry wondered.

However, Pomfrey seemed lost in thought again. “I didn't expect that a  _boy_ would pose a problem because  _well_ ... But I suppose that I should have with as many men that are coming out as gay these days. Mr. Potter, how long have you been with your boyfriend?”

“What?!” Harry cried out in surprise. “But I haven't got a boyfriend!”

“So it was just fooling around then?” Pomfrey asked with a look like this too should not have been a surprise.

“I haven't –! Oh!” Harry gulped apprehensively. “Wait, are you saying that I happened to eat a treacle tart with a fertility potion in it on the _one_ day that I was accidentally exposed to some sort of roofie potion and am now...” Harry gulped. His mind was having a hard time wrapping around this concept. Despite her earlier rambling, Harry hadn't _really_ thought about a male taking a fertility potion developing a uterus and...

And what?

And oh!

Oh. My. God!

As Harry was having a mental crisis, Madam Pomfrey was thinking over his words. “Roofie...? Isn't that a muggle term for... Wait, yes, a few of the prefects did actually bring me confiscated vials of potion to destroy.” She then saw the look of utter shock on Harry's face.

“Harry! Are you telling me that you were slipped a nasty potion and then raped?”

This pulled Harry out of his mental crisis. “Well, no. I wrote myself a letter and told my friends that I had enjoyed myself and consented while knowing that I was under the influence of a potion. More importantly, I stressed that it was an accident. The potion somehow got us both, and so the other one can't remember it either. Unfortunately, I refused to tell anyone who.”

Madam Pomfrey was torn. On the one hand, she didn't think there was such a thing as consenting under the influence of a type of lust potion. On the other hand, if it was an accident, then neither party had done anything wrong.

Harry sensed her upset. “I know it may sound hard to believe, but even the next day, I felt wonderful. I don't think I would have felt so good if it had been a bad experience.”

Pomfrey sighed. “Well, however it happened aside, the fact remains that you are pregnant. Since you are 16, I legally cannot inform your parent or guardian without your approval. In fact, I cannot legally share any of your health information regarding your sexuality to  _anyone_ without your explicit consent.”

“Oh thank God!” Harry blurted out. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to tell me that you were going to tell McGonagal and that I'd probably be given a month of detentions!”

“No,” Pomfrey said with a sigh. “I can't do that, and actually, neither could she. While I _do_ recommend telling her so that she could help you talk about all your options, at this point in the year, unless you were ready to give birth, no one would even know before the end of school – if you didn't want them to.”

She hummed in thought. “Hmm... Based on when the tart went missing, I'd guess you to be approximately two months along.” She then cast a diagnostic spell to confirm her theory. The spell made a ball appear like a hologram in front of Harry's stomach. It was flesh colored, and actually looked like a muscle of some sort. “The size of the uterus indicates that you conceived near the beginning of April and are due sometime in January. Later on – once you've made your decision – if you want me to actually take a look at the baby, I'll have you lay down so I can do a more thorough job with the measurements.”

“What decision?” Harry asked, his head spinning from the realization that this was _real._ That it was really happening.

“Whether or not you want to keep it, of course,” Pomfrey answered a bit tartly. “McGonagal can help you decide, but I must ask you to think about this carefully. A regular female student would normally ask to leave school and continue her studies from home – via correspondence, please don't think we are barbarians who would abandon a young mother still in need of an education, but anyway, _you_ are not a regular student. Nor do I think you have anywhere to go. Sadly. Thus after thinking very carefully about your life and what you must do for the next few years, I...”

She took a deep breath, clearly distressed. “I would probably recommend aborting it before it's too late.”

“No,” Harry murmured, shaking his head. “Do you have any idea how badly I want a family? I'd give anything to have parents; there's no way that I could just get rid of a child who may be the only family I ever have. I mean I understand. I really do. If you were talking with my friend Hermione, I might agree with you because she's way too brilliant to be having a baby right now. She's got loads of stuff to do first. She'd make an excellent mum, but an even better one later on when she's ready. Yes, all that is true for me too, but there it is. I couldn't do it.”

“Very well then,” Pomfrey said, giving him a tiny smile. “I suppose that I'll need to go through what you can expect to happen over the next few months. Of course, I can only see to you while you are here, so I recommend that you look for a healer at St. Mungo's first thing when you go home for summer holiday.”

“Can't. Dursleys,” Harry muttered with a hint of a growl.

“I see,” she said with a heavy sigh. “Well, that means that you are going to have to focus on nutrition as much as possible. I'll give you a supply of potions that will provide all the nutrients your baby will need to grow properly, but really, food is your best friend right now.”

“Funny how food is the one thing I can't stand to look at right now,” Harry grumbled.

“That's because you need to eat frequently and if you don't, your stomach rebels. I'll ask the house elves to leave snacks for you in your dorm when no one is around. That way, you can eat more than normal.”

“And milk?” Harry asked hopefully. “It's the only thing that seems to settle my stomach.”

“And milk,” Pomfrey agreed with a grin.

 

***

 

Harry wasn't sure what to tell his friends. He really  _really_ wanted to tell them right away, but with the final Quidditch match coming up, Ron was practically beside himself. He was trying to study  _and_ trying to practice until his legs fell off.

Meanwhile, Hermione was studying almost nonstop. End of year finals were approaching, and Hermione was currently terrified that she might not get the highest grades on all of them. Which was utterly ridiculous no matter how you looked at it.

To be honest, Harry was equal parts afraid to tell them in case they thought he was a freak or an even bigger idiot than usual – which he probably was by deciding to keep the baby when he knew his life was in constant danger. And reluctant to tell them because he didn't want to derail their studies.

Since Madam Pomfrey said that he should be fine playing Quidditch for now, Harry decided to push all thoughts of being pregnant to the back of his mind until he had time to think things through and figure out what he needed to do. As always, he spent an enormous amount of time trying to figure out what in the bloody hell Malfoy was up to!

Which was how he ended up following him into a bathroom and nearly killing him. Harry was more terrified than he had ever been in his life! When Snape came in and saved Malfoy's life, Harry could have almost kissed him! Hugged him at the very least, except this was the Professor who was determined to hate him and make his life miserable, so any sort of gratitude was out of the question.

Harry was sure that he'd be sent to Azkaban. He sat numbly thinking that it was just his luck that he'd have to have his baby in prison. That thought made him sit up straight in a blind panic. In prison, they take they baby away after it's born!

Everything that he vowed to never do in his life had just been done with one stupid mistake. He'd not only hurt someone – and nearly killed him! – but he'd condemned his baby to being parentless. Another thought made him growl threateningly.  _If they even dare to suggest that the_ Dursleys _raise my baby, I will Avada Kedavra the lot of them!_

Thus, he found himself in the awkward position of feeling so relieved that he almost wanted to hug or kiss his loathsome Professor again. Rather than go to prison or even be expelled (which was honestly the least that should have happened), Harry only had detentions with Snape every Saturday for all the rest of time.

_I'll be 90 years old and still be coming back here every weekend to serve detention, and it'll be exactly what I deserve._

 

***

 

Due to nearly killing Draco and all the other things that had happened – such as kissing Ginny in front of everyone after she'd led their Quidditch team to victory and them now dating; copious studying by everyone, and his constant worry about how he was supposed to eventually defeat Voldemort... Well, Harry actually almost forgot he was pregnant! 

If he didn't have potions to take every day and snacks appearing for him all the time, he almost wouldn't even know he was pregnant. The advice about eating more frequently combined with the potions to help rid him of his nausea, and now he only vomited in the morning if he forgot to eat a snack before going to bed.

Ron commented on how odd it was that Harry was eating before bed each night – and come to think of it, almost every time he saw Harry – but he didn't ask why. With Harry still trying not to think about it too much – or ruin his friends' studying – he kept it a secret. For now.

Then came the worse day of Harry's life – that he could remember. He knew that the death of his parents was worse by far, but actually watching as Dumbledore was killed felt about a thousand times more horrible. He tried his best to catch the murderer –  _Snape! –_ but he got away.

At Dumbledore's funeral, he broke up with Ginny because he couldn't stand for her to be in danger just for dating him. Then he took Ron and Hermione aside and told them that he planned to go hunting for Horcruxes rather than return to school next year. A small argument ensued, but at the end, Harry reluctantly agreed to let them come with him.

At that point, it seemed like he had to tell them. They  _had_ to know what they were getting into. Plus, if they wanted to change their minds, now was the best time to do it. Hell! This might even  _make_ them, which would take a load off Harry's mind.

“I have something to tell you both,” Harry murmured, suddenly scared and shakier than he had been during the funeral.

“What?” They asked him in unison, both clearly baffled by his suddenly puzzling demeanor.

“Er... Well... Did you know that if a bloke takes a fertility potion, he could...” Harry faltered. It _sounded_ unbelievable, even though he knew it was true.

“Get pregnant?” Hermione supplied, confused by why he was bringing this up now.

“Yeah,” Ron answered with a shrug. “It's rare, but sometimes it happens. Usually when two wizards are committed to each other and one decides that having children is important enough to – wait! Why are you asking this?”

Harry sort of looked away. It was harder than he thought confessing this. “ _Well..._ ”

Hermione gasped in sudden understanding. “ _No_ !”

“Yes, which is why you have to be _sure_ ,” Harry stated firmly. “It's going to be dangerous enough without me vomiting every morning and –” 

“Wait! Back up!” Ron roared in shock. “Are you saying you're _pregnant?!_ ”

“Yes,” Harry confirmed.

“But! But! _How?_ When? Who? What?!” Ron finally ran out of questions, but still sputtered and gaped like a fish out of water.

“Did it happen that night you can't remember?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Harry replied with a nod. “So, Ron, I don't know who, but the how and when is that it happened that night. I apparently ate a treacle tart made with a fertility potion and...”

“Oh dear,” Hermione clucked sympathetically. “Madam Pomfrey took all the girls aside and tested us for that potion. It never occurred to me that you... Well anyway, I guess what happened, happened. There's nothing we can do about it now except for deal with it. Are you eating enough?”

“Yes,” Harry answered with a smile. “And I've been taking potions every day.”

Ron was still in a state of shock, but he latched onto the one thing he could comprehend. “So  _that_ explains why you've been eating constantly lately.”

Harry slipped one hand into Hermione's and put his other on Ron's shoulder. “Even if you decide not to go with me after all,  _please_ don't tell anyone.”

“Mate, we're still going,” Ron stated flatly, looking like he didn't appreciate Harry suggesting otherwise. “And _of course_ we won't tell anyone. You Know Who already wants you dead, I can't image that he'll suddenly change his mind if he finds out that you might be vulnerable.”

Harry honestly didn't know what to say, other than: “Thanks...”

 

***

 

Life on the run and in hiding was nowhere  _near_ as fun as books and movies often made it sound. Especially for a pregnant... Harry was reluctant to call himself a man when he still felt like a boy, but since he was officially of age, he supposed that he was a man now.

Hermione had once again been the most brilliant person in all of creation. She'd not only packed everything they'd need for survival, but she'd also packed all the potions that Harry was supposed to take. She had books for him to read on pregnancy – of course – and had even made sure to pack a lot more extra food than she thought necessary so that he could eat constantly.

Life passed in a strange blur of nothing happening for long periods of time followed by short bursts of highly dangerous activity. For the most part, Harry basically pretended that he wasn't pregnant. One of the scariest parts though was when they needed to take some Polyjuice potion to sneak into the Ministry and steal a locket from Umbridge. Harry was half certain that he'd lose his baby, but it had to be done. There was no point in having his baby if he didn't stop Voldemort and end the war.

To his eternal relief, the magic of the potion didn't destroy his baby. To Harry's secret shame, the day it happened – September 2 nd – was the day that he was almost exactly six months pregnant, and the feeling of  _not_ being pregnant for about an hour was almost as blissful as it was scary. If he had known his baby was fine, he would have done more to enjoy the feeling. He also secretly considered taking the potion again sometime just to get that growing weight off his back and feet – which ached horribly!

The strain of being on the run and wearing an evil locket soon had Ron snapping. He couldn't handle things any longer and picked a horrible fight before leaving. Harry and Hermione were both heartbroken. 

Depression set in for a while, and there wasn't much they could do to comfort each other. Harry tried to hug Hermione, but she just held everything in. Probably because he was stupid at times, Harry did much of the same, holding back his true feelings. He felt that if he let go, he'd utterly fall apart and never be able to pick up the pieces.

During this time, he spent a lot of time rubbing his baby bump. It was fairly large and definitely noticeable. It was also completely obvious as to what it was.

“Hermione,” Harry murmured one day. She wiped silent tears from her eyes, and then came over to sit with him. “I should have had an abortion, shouldn't I?”

“Oh Harry!” Hermione cried out softly. She carefully wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. “No. No matter what happens, this baby is a miracle. It was created by some sort of fate – and you know that I don't usually believe in such things. Still, how likely is it that you would take a fertility potion – especially when you _know_ better than to eat strange things – and _then_ get hit with a lust potion by accident? It's not likely at all. The chances are probably close to zero, but it happened, and so it was probably fate. A chance for you to find happiness while you can. Or maybe it's simply an extra incentive to live through this war and bring it to an end as soon as possible.”

Harry sighed, relieved to hear her say that. Then he sighed in depression. “But Hermione... Once the baby is born, what am I going to do with it? I can't exactly bring it into battle with me. And what if we get caught? That would either leave the baby abandoned somewhere, or put it directly into the hands of a mad man who would torture or kill it just to torture me.”

“I don't know,” Hermione whispered softly. She snuggled into him, and because they were both so exhausted, they fell asleep curled up and comforting each other.

 

***

 

Time passed, and because they'd done nothing but mope, Harry suggested that he should go visit his parents grave for Christmas, and Hermione agreed because she felt that they might be able to obtain the Sword of Gryffindor from Bathilda Bagshot. That turned into a disaster! It turned out that Bathilda was dead and her corpse was being possessed by Nagini, who managed to bite Harry before Hermione blasted her.

Harry had to revise his opinion on the worst day of his life. Lying on the ground with Hermione frantically trying to save his life actually  _was_ worse than watching Dumbledore or his parents die. Possibly the saddest part of all of it was that Harry didn't care about dying, he cared about  _his baby_ dying.

Hermione was prepared enough that she was able to heal the bite from a snake whose venom was known for creating wounds that wouldn't heal. Thank God that Hermione had essence of dittany! It healed the wound and saved his life.

Except that he then went into labor. Hell, he was probably in labor from the moment he was bitten, but he hadn't noticed it until his life was no longer in danger. He moaned and keened in pain, clutching at his abdomen.

“You're close enough Harry,” Hermione assured him. “Pomfrey said sometime in January, right? Well, it's almost January. Stop fighting this and let me...”

Harry took a deep breath, but couldn't stop a whimper as he rolled onto his back and let Hermione do what she had to. She quickly summoned a potion from her purse and fed it to him. The level of pain reduced to bearable almost immediately. Just as Harry was sighing in relief, Hermione fed him another potion that made him feel numb from the waist down.

After that, Hermione cast several spells that Harry didn't know. He was utterly grateful to her that she had apparently researched what to do – because until this moment, Harry had actually assumed that he would just go to St. Mungo's. This was  _clearly_ another case of Harry not thinking things through.

Hermione looked pale and shaken the entire time, but she managed to safely cut Harry open and deliver his baby. Then Harry held the baby – covering them both with the warmest baby blanket that Hermione had made – as Hermione did everything else that needed to be done. Harry was terrified again because the baby didn't look alive... but it was breathing.  _He_ was breathing. Alive.

When everything was finished Harry slept for a while. As exhausted as she was, Hermione basically collapsed on top of him, but since she wasn't hurting him or squishing his baby, he let her be. When they woke up, everything looked a lot less grim than it had. For a couple of hours at least.

“I had my baby boy on Christmas,” Harry murmured with a grin. “Talk about the best present ever.”

Hermione sighed in self derision. “I guess I'm not as prepared as I thought I was. I never thought about the fact that we'd need to feed and clothe the baby once it was born. I have nothing for him.”

Harry started to cry. He didn't want to, but it felt like the weight of the entire world hit him at once. “How are we going to take care of him?” Harry wailed.

Hermione tried her best to comfort him. “We'll manage! I'll go to a muggle store in the middle of nowhere and buy supplies.”

“So? Even if you do, we're still on the run and I have a man trying to kill me!” Harry sobbed.

Hermione started crying now too. “We... we can try to find Molly and give him to her.”

“Well... do you know where she is?” Harry asked because they knew that the Weasley family was in hiding, but not exactly where.

“No...” Hermione murmured.

“I have no one that I trust to keep him safe other than you. Well, no one that I can find at the moment,” Harry said, still crying softly. “At this point, I might even be willing to give him to the Dursleys if I knew where they were!”

“We... We can drop him off at a muggle hospital. Babies dropped off like that are put up for adoption,” Hermione informed him, quiet tears leaking from her eyes.

“But then I'd never be able to take him back if I survive the war!” Harry protested, feeling his insides twist up in knots.

“That's true,” Hermione acknowledged gently.

“Can we try to find a wizarding family that can look after him until either Molly can be found or I can come back for him?” Harry asked desperately.

“Well...” Hermione looked away evasively. “I suppose we could try that, but how would we know if that family will keep the fact that it is _your_ baby a secret? What if that family gives the baby to Voldemort in exchange for safety?”

“So we insist on an unbreakable vow!” Harry shouted.

“Okay,” Hermione acquiesced. “But... I want you to think about something for just one moment. If you say no, we try it your way.”

Harry saw no reason not to hear her out. “Alright.”

“We should give the baby to his other father,” Hermione blurted out, and then rushed on before Harry could interrupt her. “I know that he'll take care of the baby because he's very big on family. His parents have already proven that they'll literally do anything for their family, so I think that the baby would be quite safe.”

Harry was in shock. “Wha...?”

“Just think about it,” Hermione insisted.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, gaping at her. “You _know_ who the other father is?!”

Hermione sighed. “Well... I am fairly certain, but you never actually told me. All you said was that you wouldn't believe yourself if you wrote down who it was and that if you  _did_ believe it, you'd be tempted to off yourself. I can only think of one person that fits that description.”

Harry was gobsmacked! He honestly didn't need Hermione to tell him who she thought it was because there was only one person that Harry could think of that would tempt him to off himself for having sex with.

“ _Malfoy!_ ” Harry choked out incredulously.

“Think about it,” Hermione continued. “If we somehow manage to slip the baby to Malfoy, they'll be able to cast a spell to verify that it's really his, and then they'll do whatever it takes to protect the baby.”

It made a lot of sense, but... “What if they don't? What if they treat it like a second rate creature because they can't guarantee that it's a pureblood.”

Hermione could only shrug. “I don't think they will because they are also in the middle of a dangerous war. This will be the precious Heir they need should the worst happen and Draco dies.”

Harry had to agree with that. Still... “What if we're wrong? What if it's not his?”

Hermione sighed gravely. “If you can tell me even one other person you'd want to kill yourself for having sex with, then I'll abandon this plan, but if you can't, then I think it's the best chance for the baby to make it through the war alive and well.”

Harry wracked his brains and tried to think of  _anyone_ that he'd object that strongly too, but all he could think of were Slytherins. “Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini, Nott... Malfoy.” Harry sighed, but strangely, he could only imagine consenting to having sex with one of them. “But honestly, I think you're probably right. I look at him now and he doesn't look like anyone other than Malfoy. He's delicate and pointy, and I think he's even blond.”

Hermione gave him a minute to think in silence, and then she sighed. “So... Are we bringing him to Malfoy Manor, or are we trying to find a wizard family we can trust enough to take care of him and maybe find Molly?”

Harry felt tears sliding down his eyes again. “I wish I knew where Molly is! She had to go into hiding – just like we  _all_ did, but I wish she was at home in the Burrow!”

“It would be dangerous for us to take him directly to her even if she was at the Burrow. If we triggered any sort of detection spell, Death Eaters would arrive and...”

“And my baby would be in their hands anyway,” Harry admitted with a sigh. “I suppose that we should try it your way. He'll either be the safest he can possibly be, or there is no safe place for him anywhere.” Harry then smirked as a little bit of grim humor hit him. “Too bad we can't Apparate to Australia and remodify your parent's memory to think he's theirs. He'd be safe with them.”

It meant a lot to Hermione that he thought that, even if the reminder of her parents was a sad thought. “Yes, he would.”

“So... how do we do this?”

 

***

 

Draco was exceedingly happy that his family was alone for the Christmas holiday. Considering that they frequently had unpleasant house guests, it was nice to have the Manor to themselves. Even if they were quiet most of the time.

“Master, Sir,” a house elf interrupted the silence. “There's a present that's been delivered to the gate. It appeared out of nowhere, but it's clean of dark or harmful magic and _well_...” The elf held up the basket to Draco.

Draco looked to his parents in confusion. Since it was the day after Christmas, if they were planning to get him anything else, they would have given it to him with all the rest of his presents. They looked just as confused.

With a mental shrug, Draco picked up the note on the top of the basket. “Dear Draco Malfoy, you probably won't remember a particular night in which this was created, but it's yours.  _Please_ take good care of...  _him_ ?” Draco finished reading the note in utter confusion before pulling the blanket off the top of the basket and gasping in astonishment.

He stared at the baby in shocked silence for probably two whole minutes before his parents gathered up the ability to close their mouths – having gaped at  _him_ in shock – and speak. 

“Draco...” Lucius began softly. “Is it true?”

“How should I know!” Draco blurted out. He was now looking rather frantically back and forth between the baby and his parents. 

Narcissa had enough sense to cast a blood detection spell. It was used to determine paternity by first scanning the father's blood, and then scanning the baby's. If the child belonged to the father, they would glow with matching magical signatures. Which they did.

“There's a hint of a second magical signature here, which could mean anything,” Narcissa informed them. “But the result is clear. This is your child.”

Draco went wide eyed and stared at the baby again.

“Son... I thought we made it clear that all playing around in the Slytherin dorms was to be protected so that this wouldn't happen,” Lucius murmured. He was trying to convey his disapproval without making Draco feel like he would be disowned.

“I was protected!” Draco protested vehemently. “But this still doesn't make sense because the only person that could be the mother of my child is Pansy, and I have seen her every day until we left for the holiday. There is no way that she was pregnant! And even if she was, she would have told me and expected me to do the right thing rather than just abandon him at our gate!”

“Well,” Narcissa said softly, trying to calm him down. “This note says that you probably don't remember the night, so that would explain why you don't know who the mother is.”

Draco slumped in his chair and put his head in his hands as he tried to remember  _anything_ that could give him a clue as to how this happened.

 

***

 

When Draco woke up, he felt wonderful but sore all over. A smile stretched his lips before he could even wonder why he was smiling. He stretched, yawning loudly in a way that sounded a bit like a purr, and then yelped in surprise to see Blaise standing next to his bed, staring at him intently.

“So... you want to tell me what happened now?” Blaise asked.

“What are you talking about?” Draco wondered with a confused frown.

“Just that you stumbled through the common room last night looking thoroughly shagged, went straight to bed, and then refused to talk about what happened as you fell asleep,” Blaise explained.

Draco sat up and winced as he realized that he was sore somewhere he shouldn't be. He also realized that he had apparently stripped down and slept naked – which was not so unusual on hot nights, but was unusual on cold ones like it had been.

Slipping out of bed, Draco took a good look at his body in his full length mirror. He had bruises everywhere. To be honest, it was rather impressive!

“And I didn't tell you anything?” Draco asked Blaise.

“Not a word – except to say that you'd tell me later,” Blaise answered.

“I really wish I that I had told you – or better yet, that I could remember it and tell you now,” Draco murmured, still twisting and turning his body to look at all the marks and dried evidence. “I look like I had a lot of fun.”

“Maybe a little too much fun,” Blaise remarked in concern. “I know you looked like you were floating on a cloud of bliss last night, but now that I see everything,” he gestured to Draco's body. “I am not so sure that it was a good night.”

“It had to have been,” Draco reasoned with a smirk. “I would have hexed anyone who tried to touch me if I didn't want them to.”

Blaise tilted his head to the side, nodding to concede the point. 

“Besides, I feel brilliant! Sore, yes, but happy. Surely I wouldn't feel happy if it had been bad,” Draco hypothesized. 

“Then why don't you seem to remember what happened?” Blaise wondered.

Draco sighed because he was disappointed that he couldn't remember anything. “Well, there's a potion going around school that makes one horny and then takes away the memory of what happened. As prefects, we've been keeping an eye out for it. I must have confiscated one and then had some sort of accident on the way to dispose of it.”

“What if you were slipped the potion on purpose?” Blaise asked quietly with a solemn tone.

Draco sighed morosely as it occurred to him that this was a possibility. “I'll write up an anonymous report and submit it to Madam Pomfrey.”

Blaise watched in amusement as Draco admired his body once more. Then Draco grabbed his wand and cast a few healing spells to get rid of the bruises that would be seen, keeping the ones that wouldn't be seen. Lastly, he pointed his wand at his bum and whispered another healing spell.

“ _Oh really_?” Blaise asked with interest.

Draco smirked at him. “I wasn't sure that was going to work since I couldn't clearly see it in the mirror. But yes, apparently that got some use last night.”

Blaise pouted. “And it wasn't by me.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Do you remember how hung you are? I wouldn't let you near my arse if you paid me, blackmailed me, bribed me, or won a favor in a bet!”

Blaise ran a hand down Draco's spine. “What about other things?” 

Draco kissed him on the cheek. “As always, you'll have to wait until after I'm done with all my homework tonight. Now, I should probably take a shower.”

Blaise purposely smelled him. “I don't know, you smell really good right now; musky and full of sex.”

“Ugh! No thanks! I don't need to walk around all day smelling like a slag!” Draco protested, and then walked to the showers – where Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott where already washing up. The three of them looked him over curiously, but said nothing.

With a satisfied smirk, Draco went about his day.

 

***

 

Sighing heavily, Draco looked up at his parents. “There was a night I don't remember. I even wrote up a report on it, now that I think about it. Basically, there's an illegal potion going around school, and it's designed to erase memory.”

“So...” Lucius began hesitantly. “You're saying that you were slipped a potion, and now can't remember how you have a baby?”

Draco nodded in agreement. “But I don't understand...  _Why_ would anyone slip me a potion for something like this? If it was intended as a way to extort money then why give the baby to me? Why not extort the money? Why not just  _tell_ me what had happened?”

Neither of his parents had any idea, so they simply shrugged. Before anyone could think of anything to say, the baby – who had been sleeping peacefully – started to fuss. Without thinking, Draco picked him up and held him. This was the house elf's cue to put down the basket and disappear.

The baby quieted back down and stared at Draco as Draco stared at him in return. The two seemed enthralled with each other. Narcissa smiled faintly as she realized that they were already bonding.

“There's a second note,” Lucius pointed out.

Draco leaned over to pick up the note on the bottom of the basket. “If you plan to keep him, please send up blue sparks over the Manor. If you plan to give him up for adoption, please send up red sparks. Either way, I just need to know that he will be safe.”

“Sounds like the mother is quite worried,” Narcissa murmured.

“He's naked,” Draco observed with a frown, having checked the inside of the blanket for clues.

“We should have the elves dig out some of _your_ baby things,” Narcissa suggested. “We can go shopping in the morning. And don't worry, I'll take good care of him when you go back to school.”

Nodding absently, Draco walked all the way to the balcony that overlooked the gate to the Manor. Once on the balcony, he stared out at the land surrounding the gate, trying desperately to find some clue as to who had dropped the baby off. Who was waiting for the sparks?

As he looked, he swayed and lightly bounced the baby – an instinct that he didn't even know he had. Not finding anything, he sent up blue sparks. Then he changed the sparks so that they formed the name Scorpius.

His father startled him by putting a hand on Draco's shoulder. “That's a fine name for a Malfoy.”

Draco smiled at his father. “Thank you.”

 

***

 

From a hidden and well-warded spot outside the Manor gate, Harry and Hermione watched Draco accept the child and croon to him. Draco then kissed the baby while Lucius watched with an expression of fatherly pride. Harry felt utterly drowned in relief that his baby was safe and being taken care of. Even so...

He turned to bury his face in Hermione shoulder. She held him and rubbed his back as he cried. When they felt ready, they moved on to a safe place to hide.

From that day on, whenever Harry came across a pretty flower or an interesting shell – or  _anything_ that somehow reminded him of his son – he would put on a glamour, Apparate to the nearest owl post, and send the item to Malfoy Manor with a note that said only:  _For Scorpius._ The only thing that that kept Harry going was the thought that one day, he might have a chance to explain what happened.

For now, he pushed all thoughts of his baby to the back of his mind and focused on winning the war.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry that this ends a bit sadly. When the idea for this story first hit me, it was to have Harry drop the baby off at a muggle hospital and never see him again, but I just couldn't be that cruel! I went through all possibilities, trying to find one that would lead to an HEA, and this is the only one that I felt had the potential to eventually turn out alright.  
> That said, the rest of the events happened as described in book 7. For the scene where our golden trio is captured, I imagine that it played out exactly the same and the reason the baby isn't mentioned is that Narcissa had him hidden away, safely being cared for by an elf or two while her house was full of dangerous people. And Harry couldn't exactly stop everything and ask Draco if the baby was okay - which would have shocked the hell out of Draco, lol!  
> Lastly, the original idea was to have Harry keep the pregnancy a total secret from everyone until he literally fell apart from the stress, but considering that he has such good friends, I couldn't come up with a good reason why he wouldn't confide in Hermione at the very least. Thus, I might just write this whole story over featuring Draco as the one who gets pregnant and goes through all that misery. But I'm still a sap, so I'd probably try for HEA somehow, lol!


End file.
